neutral_omens | (no subject)

Entry tags:

aziraphale,
ellie

(no subject)

Date: September 23, 2000
Setting: Manor Library
Status: Private - Ellie, Aziraphale (Complete)
Summary: Ellie is concerned.

She'd got the news from John, and had reamed him soundly for not informing her right away. Apparently he'd assumed the angel would come running straight to her and hadn't troubled himself about it further, which just went to show what a thoughtless clod the man could be. Although the fact that Aziraphale hadn't come to her was both worrisome and a bit hurtful. She hated to think of him all alone right now.

The obvious place to start when looking for Aziraphale was the library, and sure enough, when Ellie came to the door, she found it shut and locked. Has he been in here all this time? she wondered, surprised nobody had complained about the closed library in...what would it be, five days now?

"Aziraphale?" she called softly, rapping on the heavy wooden door. "Are you in there? It's Ellie. Hello?"

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Ellie looked away, pushing her hair back behind her ears in a suddenly nervous gesture. "Oh. Yes, he...had quite a bit to say, actually." She cleared her throat, not really wanting to go into this right now, but maybe it would provide a brief distraction for the angel. "Apparently the--she--was kept alive. Imprisoned. But they seem to have lost track of her." She glanced at Aziraphale, unable to keep her anxiety hidden. "There's a chance she may have been responsible for some...trouble...recently."

"She," the angel breathed, distracted for a moment. Ellie's daughter. The concept threw him for a moment - he couldn't help picture what could have been, what might be still, and there was a strong, paternal urge that followed, to help them both, overwhelming him for a moment.

"My dear," Aziraphale croaked, and touched her arm comfortingly, "why on earth didn't you say something before? Are you quite all right?"

Ellie gave him a strained smile. "Well. Apparently she--the person who's been stirring things up, that is, it may or may not be the same one--is very difficult to track down or follow. She runs from angels and demons, fights with strange powers when she's cornered, then drops out of sight. And she's got enough clout to stand up to Mictain and walk away in one piece. So I don't know how I'd find her, or what I'd do if I could." She rubbed absently at her arms.

"I'm not even sure if I should try," she added unhappily. "She'd have no idea who I am, and for all I know she might be better off on her own. It's bad enough Heaven wants to lock her back up in Limbo. She doesn't need the Wyrm Queen or the Morningstar out for her blood, too."

"We have our own enemies," he accepted, and pushed up the glasses that hadn't been there a moment ago.

"But perhaps they wouldn't mind a Principality? Particularly, after all, the one that Heaven's currently not speaking to regardless?" His frankness, Aziraphale hoped, would still get his point across. "At the very least, you have my promised help. Hardly the knight in shining white armour, I'm afraid, but perhaps I'll do."

"Thank you, Aziraphale dear," she said, bemused at the angel's capacity to concern himself with her troubles despite his own distress. The comment about Heaven was a bit alarming, however. "What do you mean, though? Have you been out of touch with Upstairs for long?"

"Long enough, my dear," he said finally, not wishing to worry her. There was a momentary pang as he realized it was more than a year, far more, and he quashed it before fear set in.

It was beginning to rain outside, and Aziraphale could hear rain against the window, which closed upon his awareness. "I am tired," he admitted, quietly, and crumbled a scone in his hands.

Ellie closed her hands gently around the angel's, taking what was left of the pastry and setting it aside, where it unobtrusively faded from existence. "Come and have a rest," she said softly, rising and coaxing him up after her with a small tug. "You can decide later what to do from there."

It took less than a moment for Aziraphale to nod, and stand. "Yes," he agreed, eyes gone slow and deeply blue as he stood, "Yes," looking at the pattering rain outside, and felt her small hands in his own soft ones.

The cup of tea and scones disappeared as he left them, the books temporarily neatened, and the library was left unlocked once they'd left. Aziraphale felt cold, when a breeze went by, but was slowly feeling the weight of exhaustion weigh on him.

Murmuring almost to himself, Aziraphale rambled, "Sleeping's an addiction, you know. You miss it when you can't have it - it affects mind, corporation..." He was led to bed, tucked in nearly as if he were a child, and promised, stubbornly, just before drifting off,

"I'll wean myself off it."

Ellie stayed by until she was sure the angel was comfortable and sleeping soundly, then extinguished the already-dimmed lights and left him to it. She'd never got in the habit of sleeping nightly for precisely the reasons Aziraphale cited, so he could have the bed. Any other business she might have in it could be addressed elsewhere, for the time being.

She really wanted to know who had started that rumor, and had a suspicion John was holding out on her on that count, for some reason. Trying to pry information out of that stubborn man was like extracting teeth. But if she couldn't find out one way, she'd find out another. It just might take some time.

And that was one thing Ellie possessed in abundance.

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